Dream Sequence
by Autunm Lilac
Summary: Lilac's Dragon Riders of Pern oneshots and dabbles about her characters on all her different Weyrs. All the untold histories and background stories as well as the secrets of many shall be told here.
1. Faded Red Velvet

Faded Red Velvet

The soft hush of the pounding rain had lulled her into a state that was rather close to sleep. Even so, she could hear Storm's soft rustlings as he shifted position at the foot of her bed, rearranging his little wings so as to be comfortable. Nastusia didn't truly have the energy to move, so when Lycortih landed, making a huge thump in the process, Sia just covered her head with a skin, her unusual eyes screwed tight against the noise of her dragon making himself comfortable, just like her firelizard had done.

When the dream started to click away in her head, she was partially aware that it wasn't real. It had that slightly unnerving quality dreams tend to have, while still being close enough to reality to be unsettling. While Nastusia had been warm before, covered in skins in her own bed, now she was cold, shivering, laying on the ground covered in nothing over then her clothing. And while her clothing before had been good fine wherhide, now it was tattered rags, some of them still sowing patches of the faded red color they had been before. The rain was still there. She'd remember the rain.

Nastusia sat up, her damp hair swinging in front of her face, creating a shield through which she could just see the huddled shape of her half sister. She was asleep, but looked cold. They were both cold. Always cold.

"Rai?" To Sia, her own voice sounded strange. Her voice sounded younger, as though instead of seventeen she was eleven. She remembered being eleven. Nastusia remembered a lot of her "former" life.

"Raiden?" Once again there was no answer from her sister. Sia flipped herself over onto her hands and knees, and crawled toward her sister. Sia poked Raiden gently, before shaking her sisters shoulder to make sure nothing was wrong with her. There wasn't.

Sitting back, Sia tried to remember what had happened the day before. Even though the rain, she could tell it was night. That weird sense of time that she and her sister had always had told her so. Something was wrong with her memory. Nastusia could remember chiding Lycorith for being a dimglow and a selfish brat, as well as laughing with Raiden about something Storm had done to Lulin. However, these faint images were mostly faded and the ones that were implanting themselves over the "old" images were ones of begging, scavenging, and being violently sick.

Something was wrong here. Wasn't she at the Weyr? Wasn't Lycorith snoozing a few feet away from her, his great body heating the cold room? Wasn't Lulin awake in the next room, endlessly pouring over scrolls as he tried to study? And where were Cloud and Storm? Weren't they here? Sia could remember the pair causing havoc, but when she actually thought about it, her brain turned up the question "Who is Storm?"

She'd forgotten about dreams.

Dreams were important.

Sia crept back toward the place where she'd been asleep, searching the ground for her bag. It had to be around here somewhere, did it? She'd never left it lying about as though it were a piece of junk. Her bag was her very life, or perhaps the savior of it. It held all the scrolls the pair had ever re-written from the originals. Nastusia and Raiden were healers, of a sort.

When she'd found it, Sia looked inside for Storm, or even Cloud, sheltering from the dripping roof, or just from the cold, but the brother flits weren't there.

What was going on?

What had happened?

The only answer to Sia's question was "Nightmare."

Sia hugged her knees close to her chest, not wanting to move because it made her feel vulnerable. There weren't any dragons around to talk to, and Rai was asleep, so she didn't know what was going on.

Nastusia, the girl who was both ironically on the verge of death at every given moment, and the one who was beyond death itself, shivered.

She'd just remembered something else. Her mother had died two days ago.

Death and sorrow seemed to follow the pair everywhere.

Slowly, Sia closed her eyes again. If she thought about it, she could just remember the Weyr, and that was the worst part.

Nightmare indeed. Being thrown back into her life before, being reminded that although she now was the esteemed rider of the only Spite dragon on Pern, she was still mortal, whatever her name meant.

Eventually, all things died.


	2. The Horror Keeper

The Horror Keeper

If you killed her, she wouldn't die.

Some people claimed that it was the fact that she spent all her free time –time when she wasn't harassing, bothering, annoying, embarrassing, or in general being herself to other people, mostly her brother- around poisonous and flesh-eating plants that was what did it.

Others thought that it was because she had a heart of ice, and eyes to match. The only reason she was alive, they said, was because her hair was flame and kept her body just warm enough to function.

Those uncultured and scared of what they don't understand said that she was a dragon that had eaten the flesh out of a human skin, and then morphed to be inside. They said she had teeth that were sharpened to points, and fingernails that were sharp enough to cut through skin. She was believed to be able to breathe fire if upset.

She wasn't any of these things, or any of the other things that were said behind her back. She knew about them, and did everything in her considerable power to make people believe in them. If it was anyone else, there would be some cheesy-ass line here, such as "It was better to be a myth," and so on, but this wasn't just anyone, this was Luecothea.

The Horror Keeper.

She could spin words like a spider spun it's web, all gossamer threads that you couldn't see until you were entangles in the shinning trap. Many people compared her to a spider. She was all glittering colors with such a small body, but she moved like lightning, and once you were bitten, you died.

Leucothea. Many people considered it a beautiful name, to others, it was the very epiphany of evil and destruction.

It was simply the way she talked, the way she could turn her head just enough to fix you with a paralyzing gaze that left you with the feeling that you'd only just escaped with your life. Her ice-blue eyes could see your soul, and never liked what they saw.

With Leucothea, there were fine lines that couldn't be distinguished unless you'd had a serious dose of something really illegal. She think that she was above anyone else, as she had a personal hatred for people who thought to much of themselves, or had a high ranking position in live, but she simply felt that others were bellow her. There was all the difference on Pern when it came to Leucothea.

Leucothea had a very long attention span. When things took place over years, even centuries, she would sit and watch, smiling slightly in a way that made you so glad you were not the subject of her scrutiny.

She had no emotion. Many people simply pretended that they did not have emotions, so as not to be hurt by others for fear of their delicate hearts. Leucothea had no emotion. If happiness or joy could survive the hell that was her logical and cynical mind, then when they left, they would be shriveled, poisonous things that would only cause pain to others. Elation was simply the thrill of the chase, of the hunt, of the fact that she was the chaser, and the chased was shrieking in fear.

This is Leucothea.

This is The Horror Keeper.


	3. The Blue Mastermind

The Blue Mastermind

Calth was his name. He was a simple blue dragon. A little weird, a little insane, but in general, a very simple blue dragon. Unusually, he had some very strange Quirks. In this case, the capital "Q" is warranted.

You had to love Calth, even if he made life at Noelan Weyr so much more difficult. It was simply the way that he failed to understand simple things, and was kind and gentle to everyone and everything that made him so lovable. He couldn't, however, sing.

Calth enjoyed singing, which wasn't a very good thing. His voice sounded like a dying cat…. On fire…. If you've never heard a dying cat on fire before, it is not a nice sound. If you have heard a dying cat on fire, then you are an evil sadist. Calth also didn't grasp ideas that normal people –and dragons- seemed to get, such as "The Song that Never Ends" does not end.

Three months straight.

You can just imagine K'lee –Calth's rider- after this time. His head was practically smashed in. It wasn't that K'lee was a masochist, but when you get a reaction such as "K'leemine, if you keep interrupting me, I shall have to start over," when you try and insert into your dragon's mind that the sharding song that doesn't end doesn't have a sharding end by the first egg, you tend to go slightly –coughhack- insane.

Right there should give you an outline about what daily life at Noelan Weyr is like. A very… accurate outline.

Then there was the exploding of the volcano.

We shan't go there.

When K'lee has gotten into one of his many fights, Calth is the one who takes "care" of him. This consists of Calth sitting there poking K'lee while K'lee's two flits, Gal and Pell, climb all over K'lee while he is in a comatose state. This happens quite often, sometimes after K'lee has had too much to drink, or simply heard an insult. His ego and pride have caused him to kill more than one man.

It might be worth mentioning that K'lee is not gay. Nor is he Bi, which seems to be the rumor that is going around at the moment –courtesy of Leucothea, his twin sister-. The pair is simply unique, and quite hard to describe in words.

This is their life.

K'lee doesn't really enjoy it.

Calth… well, Calth enjoys everything.


	4. Just Wait for Me

Just Wait for Me

Pandra hugged Keefe's hand tightly to her chest. Hugging her brother's hand always made the three-year old feel happy and safe, even when there were giant winged things in the air. Keefe smiled down at his little sister, glad, and a little bit scared that she was still alive.

After what had happened… their entire family dying in the dragon attack… and now they were going to the Weyr. Keefe had doubts about all of this, but the Bloodroses in their rage and loneliness for their dead riders had destroyed their home, and many others.

It had been a sad day when the settlements and southern holds had finally gotten fed up and attacked the Weyr. A sad day, and a stupid one. It had been drink that had started the idea in people's heads, and once the fire caught, it rages through each mind, sparking and blazing. Keefe's and Pandra's father had been one of the drunkards who had agreed that the Weyr –considered to be nothing more than parasitic hindrance now that the Thread was gone- had gone to far to ask for small tithes.

So the Weyr was attacked, and the eggs smashed to bits. Some of the eggs. A few were left because the queens defended them. The dragons and their riders were slaughtered where they slept, thanks to the help of some treacherous weyrfolk. In time, they too were killed.

No one was spared from the holders thirsty weapons. Only the youngest Weyrlings had gotten to safety, and while they waited, helpless, the Weyr was crumbling. It was the Bloodroses who made the difference. The incensed queens, known for their legendary tempers, refused to go between, even when their riders had died, until they had revenge. Blood for Blood was spilled in the next few days.

The Holders died, all except those few who had survived…. Just like the few eggs that still stood, bloody, on the sands. It was own fault, and Keefe, who was just old enough to understand, didn't know what to do. He had to take care of Pandra.

That was the only thing left for him to do.

"Come on Kweefe!" Pandra wailed, turning and tugging on his hand, her large round blue eyes staring up at Keefe.

"Lets gwo! I wanna eat sometwing!" She had the most adorable lisp…

"Alright, let's go." Keefe smiled down at Pandra, and she giggled, turning to run and drag him behind her as she sprinted for the Weyr.

Maybe things wouldn't turn out so bad. As long as Pandra didn't get into any trouble….


	5. Clockwork Heart

Clockwork Heart

Can't you see _tock_ that time is _tock_ precious?

That_tock_ when you pause,_ tick_ you waste that time?

Or is it the simple_ tock_ and brainless _tock_ fact that you are scared?

You are _tick_ a frightened child, forever clinging to _tock_ your mother's skirts.

_tick_ Scared of the dark, and of the monsters that linger _tick_ and wait there.

You fail _tock_ to understand that the light _tick_is much more dangerous that the waiting dusk.

There_tick_is nothing to fear _tick_ in Death.

In the twinkling _tock_ light is where I stand, and _tock_ there is much reason to be frightened of me.

I hold your time and your life in _tock_ my _tick_ hand, my own clockwork heart tells the light the time.

_tock_I am the gatekeeper of Life and _tock_ Death.

_tick_ A name spoken _tock_ aloud.

You_tock_ cannot _tick_ escape fate.

Die…._tock_

_Note: This is actually another story about Leucothea when she was called a different name. She was the queen rider of a now dead-weyr, and I loved her so much that I did this. XD It doesn't look anything like Pern, I know, but I don't know where else to put it, and it fits her so well.  
_


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